Dreaming with a Broken Heart
by Izzi Creo
Summary: SONGFIC: When waking up is moving on and moving on is leaving everything behind … are you really sure you want to wake up? CHARACTER DEATH! Full Summary inside.


**Entry for the P4S summer comp.**

**When I heard this song, the mood of the music and John Mayer's voice just screamed 'Character Death'. **

**Don't like character deaths? Don't bother going on 'cause I don't want to hear your complaints about killing characters off. Thank you.**

**The piano notes are like stabs so reminded me of how reality comes in and stabs the person with the truth.  
****Also, the music which would most probably, usually be interpreted as a person who had been dumped by their girlfriend, I decided to interpret it as the persons died and they were depressed because of the death and the 'do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand' was actually a metaphor for him committing suicide and dying.  
****Morbid? Most probably.  
****Lol.**

**Hope you enjoy anyway and good luck everyone involved!  
****Set fourth months after Romania - so January, Sam's still a Detective Sergeant.  
Slight use of language to show the anger.**

_**Title: Dreaming with a Broken Heart  
**__**Artist: John Mayer  
**__**Summary: SONGFIC: When waking up is moving on and moving on is leaving everything behind … are you really sure you want to wake up? CHARACTER DEATH! P4S Summer Comp Entry. Full Summary inside.**_

_DI. Samantha Hunter_

**Dreaming with a Broken Heart**

Phil Hunter lay in bed, his bedcovers twisted around him and closing in around him. The heavy night was weighing down on him, trapping him in the nightmare he longed to escape from. The nightmare was like a television, replaying the moment he lost the one person he had ever truly loved, over and over again. He tossed to one side, the covers tightened, and night pushed down ever more. He groaned into the silent night, cold sweat breaking out over his forehead and running down his face.

_He sat in the passenger seat, the radio was buzzing quietly but other than that they were in companionable silence. He looked across at his girlfriend of four months - friend of two and a half years - and smiled, he was glad that their relationship was still steady. At the beginning, he knew she had reservations about whether it was a smart move to get involved in a relationship and possibly throw their friendship away but he'd convinced her that they'd never know unless they tried. _

_They'd gone out to buy a bag of chips for dinner and twilight had already been and gone, the sky was filled with clouds and Phil hoped they would act as a blanket so it wasn't too cold during the night._

"_Sam? D'you want another chip?" He asked as he took one himself from the bag and chewed it._

"_Mm. Go on then." Samantha Nixon replied, she opened her mouth whilst keeping her eyes on the road and he popped one in her mouth. She bit down on his finger and giggled whilst he snatched his hand away. _

"_That hurt!" He moaned._

"_Good!" She giggled._

"_Fine, no more chips for you!" Phil replied, pretending to be sulky._

"_Fine!" She replied, just as sulkily. _

_Phil tried to hide his grin, it was a game they often played to see who would give in first. He should've learnt by that time that Sam was too stubborn to ever give in but he still tried. He smirked and picked up a chip without her noticing, he put it on his thumb and forefinger before flicking it at her, it hit her chest before bouncing off and on to her foot. As she was wearing flip flops and the chips were still rather hot, she pulled her foot off of the brake in shock and shrieked; "Phil!"_

"_Sam, the road!" Phil shouted as her car drove towards the wall of the bridge they were crossing. It hit the wall which seemed to crumble away, effortlessly. Phil recalled another shriek erupting from Sam as he shouted and the car skidded off the bridge and hit the bank beside the canal that ran through Canely park. _

_Phil felt groggy as he looked around, he could feel blood trickling into his ear. It felt sticky and uncomfortable. He looked across at Sam who had cuts on her face as well as a mass of blood seeping from a wound on the back of her head. He lent over and felt the car slide on the wet grass, he pushed two fingers against Sam's neck in an attempt to find her pulse but could feel nothing. Deciding it must be because of the strange angle he was at he opened the car door and unclipped his seat belt, he scrambled out of the car. He could hear people on the bridge, talking to each other and shouting down. He hoped one of them had the sense to call an ambulance, he walked around the car but as he got to the bonnet his leg gave way and he ended up falling against the cool metal. His weight pushed against the car and it slipped further into the canal, the canal had a major drop against the bank which was why the police and council always suggested people didn't use this end but used the shallower end further up by the main parkland. _

_Phil pulled up from the car as it fell into the water and sank at a fast pace, Phil watched in horror as the car was submerged within seconds. He jumped into the water and let his eyes become accustomed to the water before swimming lower and attempting to catch the car up. He reached the car's boot and used it to push himself deeper, towards the front door. He pulled at the door but it wouldn't move, then tried the window which also wouldn't move. He swam over the top and reached his side which still had it's door wide open, swimming in he tugged at Sam's seatbelt, attempting to ignore the fact the green water was slowly turning crimson. After what felt like a lifetime, the seatbelt came away, he unhooked Sam from it and pulled her out of the car with him. He held her under one arm whilst using the other to fight his way to the surface, his legs thrashed in the water as he felt the need for air. _

_Eventually he broke the surface, the water rippling madly around him, he let his lungs expand with oxygen before swimming to the banks edge. He saw a high visibility, police jacket and wondered whether it was someone from Sun Hill police station or someone from another station. Hands grappled with his arms and pulled him out of the water before helping him lay Sam down on flat grass. He began resuscitation and took her body in, she looked even worse than before. Now her body had a bluish tinge and he could understand why, in the winter's evening the water was freezing cold - possibly below zero, but he couldn't know for sure. She was wet through, her hair had managed to whip around and stick to her face and there was some mud on her from where she'd been dragged up the bank. _

_Paramedics ran over and forced him away from her, they lifted her on to a stretcher and took her to the ambulance, once inside they began their own resuscitation and pressed needle after needle into her arm. He stood there, shivering but not caring, as they hooked her up to a heart monitor. The continuous beep made his heart hammer and at that moment in time he hated his heart for beating - why should his heart get to beat twice as fast whilst hers didn't beat at all? Why couldn't he transfer the extra beats of his heart into hers? Why couldn't love be enough for her to wake up? _

_A heavy, red blanket was draped over his shoulder and he looked across to see Sergeant Smith stood there in his high visibility jacket looking concerned and full of sorrow. Phil realised he was the one who had pulled them out of the canal, he murmured his thanks and Smithy laid a hand on his shoulder in a comforting way. _

"_This is all my fault, Smithy. I should never have thrown the chip at her. I was just messing about, but it made her lose control … and now look." Phil looked back into the ambulance as the paramedics shocked Sam with the padels for possibly the fourth time but there was still no change, he saw the look on the paramedics faces as they made eye contact, saw the conformation between the two of them. He slowly turned and walked away, Smithy called to him, telling him he needed to get down the hospital to be checked out but he ignored him. He didn't want to go back and hear them call the time of death, hear them label her death with a number, signing her last moment on Earth. _

_He walked to where the car had slid away, marks on the floor showed where the tyres had given up and succumbed to the watery depths. The grass was flattened and had been pulled up in places. Surprisingly, the water was still once more. A flat, black mass that was mocking him with it's fake innocence. _

Phil hit the floor with a loud thud and his eyes snapped opened, for a second he couldn't draw breath, his fear was too strong, then suddenly his lungs opened up and he drew oxygen into them. His eyes were wide in fear, for the moment had reminded him of when he'd broken the surface, that was the moment his survival had been confirmed. His pathetic existence had been chosen to live on, while Sam had been chosen to move onwards. Mutual friends had tried to convince him that she was in a better place, the more holy inspired once had said God had chosen her because he had something important for her to do but he'd scoffed and told them that their God was a cheat. For their God had been cruel to him, had _stolen_ the woman he loved rather than chose her.

He laid very still on the floor, the blankets still wrapped around him, his head resting on the wooden flooring. He saw bare feet padding towards him gently, the legs bent at the knees and she crouched before him, her nightgown tucking away with her legs. He saw her hand reaching out for him and knew she was trying to help him get up. He looked up, excited to her face that would no doubt be smiling at his foolishness for falling out of the bed and having a bad dream. But all he saw was the corner of his room, no face, no body was blocking out his room. Nothing was there, except for the bitterness of reality. It _had_ been a dream, but a very real one.

_**When you're dreaming with a broken heart  
**__**The waking up is the hardest part  
**__**You roll outta bed and on your knees  
**__**And for the moment you can hardly breathe  
**__**Wondering was she really there?  
**__**Is she standing in my room?  
**__**No she's not, 'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone…**_

"When Sam first arrived at Sun Hill, I worked with her and DC Eva Sharpe on a case…"

Phil watched as Inspector Gina Gold stood in front of the grave and spoke to the mourners, he had been asked to say a few words but couldn't bring himself to do it so Gina had taken on the responsibility. It was lightly snowing and the flakes laid on the ground, he watched one flake as it dropped down on to the plaque that was set on the coffin in the grave. _'Samantha Grace Nixon'._

"We went to a suspects house … cocky one he was, when he opened the door he called us 'Charlie's Angels'." Gina chuckled slightly and others joined in. "She really proved herself that day, I know she had so many ups and downs in her life but somehow, she'd always come out of it smiling. She was career-minded, strong and rather stubborn but underneath that she was actually vulnerable, she had a certain comedy timing which made her witty and she would never give up on the people she cared about - even if others told her to."

Phil looked around, there were many of their colleagues from Sun Hill scattered around as well friends from other stations and other parts of her life. Her mother, who was blonde like her daughter, was stood into her fathers side, buried behind a handkerchief, sobbing. Her father, who was thin, tall and grey, had tears in his eyes and was stood beside Sam's daughter, Abigail. Abi was holding her sandy haired son, Jared, in her arms and was snuggling into his locks, her tears streaming down her cheeks whilst he chewed his finger. His nose dribbling a little and his eyes were red-rimmed.

"Sam was a good friend," Gina carried on. "And a good copper. She touched so many lives and - _Phil…_"

Phil made his way through the crowd and strode away from the people clustered around the grave, he heard shoes crunching on the snow after him, which was falling thicker. He stubbornly refused to stop and carried on until Gina ended up in step with him. "Phil please, go back!"

"What? Listen to you going on and on about her? Came out of everything smiling and all that crap?! She's hardly smiling now is she?" Phil shouted. "She's dead Gina! Just throw her in the fucking grave and have it over with!"

"How can you be so heartless?!" Gina demanded. "When you and Sam first became a couple I tried to convince her she was making a mistake but she told me you'd changed. I took her word for it and I saw it for myself, you really had changed but was I wrong? Was _Sam_ wrong? Have you just been the heartless bastard all along?!"

"Of course not, no!" Phil shouted. "I love her! I … _I_ could've saved her … the cut on the back of the head didn't kill her, it just rendered her unconscious. What killed her was the water, she drowned for fuck sake! If I was faster when swimming to the surface, if I had gotten her out of the car quicker … I could have saved her life."

Gina sighed and put her gloved hand on his arm. "You can't blame yourself."

"I will find a way to be with her, because I can't live without her." He promised before striding away, ignoring Gina as she called to him.

"Phil? What do you mean?! Phil?!"

_**When you're dreaming with a broken heart  
**__**The giving up is the hardest part  
**__**She takes you in with your crying eyes  
**__**Then all at once you have to say goodbye  
**__**Wondering could you stay my love?  
**__**Will you wake up by my side?  
**__**No she can't, 'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone…**_

Phil inserted his key in the lock, he pushed the door open and faced Sam who had a broad smile on her face as he walked in and shut the door behind him.

"You've been gone for ages." She said, and the sound seemed to echo down the hall from a long way off. "It's freezing outside, you must be cold."

"Yeah." He replied, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

"Come here." She said gently.

She opened her arms wide and approached him but faded away before reaching him, the house which had been lit up with lights a minute before and warm because the heating was on was now cold and dark. He sighed and walked through the house to the kitchen. He turned the heating on and snapped the light on before walking towards the alcohol cabinet and pulling out a large bottle of brandy, followed by a glass tumbler.

He poured the acidic liquid into the tumbler and drank, the alcohol burning at his insides but making the pain drain away. Once he'd drained the tumbler, he placed it and the bottle on the kitchen table and wandered over to the window sill where a framed photo of he and Sam stood, they were sharing a tender kiss. He took it with him to the table and propped it up on it's stand before sitting down on the wooden chair. He poured himself another drink and drank from it quickly, he put the tumbler back on the table and picked the photo up once more. He stabbed his finger against the glass where their lips met before moving it across Sam's face gently. He didn't recall when it had been taken, some social event during the previous four months. All he remembered was many Sun Hill people being involved and Jo going wild with a camera - when she'd taken the photo he and Sam had broken apart as the flash had startled them and laughed with Jo. His eyes pricked uncomfortably, there'd been many moments since the accident, a week before, when he'd felt the pricking sensation and his face growing tight. But tears never arrived, they just sat behind his eyes, tormenting him. He wanted to let them out, he wanted to cry like everyone else and hopefully after that he would heal.

Perhaps it was God's doing again, perhaps he was being cruel once more and preventing him from crying, from healing.

_**Oooooooooohhhhhhhh**_

Phil had given up with the tumbler, he stumbled up the stairs, taking swigs straight from the brandy bottle. He stumbled through his room towards his CD player which played the 'Rat Pack' CD Sam had bought him as a present a few months previously. He walked into the en-suite bathroom and ran the bath, making sure it wasn't too hot or cold, he then left it to fill up without adding any bath foam. He went over to the cabinet and threw it open, pulling out the bottles of prescribed medication. He took another swig of his brandy and attempted to read what it said on the back but was unable to, his head was spinning too much. He cracked open the lid and poured the pills into his hand, he closed his fingers around them and nearly dropped them for his hand was overflowing with red pills.

He glanced at the bath and mumbled; "Plan B." Before stumbling back into the bedroom. he sat down on the bed, dropping the tablets beside him. He reached for the CD player's remote and changed the song to "How Do You Speak to an Angel?" by Dean Martin. He pressed the 'repeat one' button and let the music mingle with the sound of the taps running in the bathroom, he fell back on to the bed and laid there silently. He tried to drink from the bottle and spilt brandy down himself but was past caring.

He looked down at the red pills beside him, he picked them up in his hands and contemplated actually taking them or going for plan B?

_**Now do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?  
**__**Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hands?  
**__**Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hands?  
**__**Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hands?  
**__**Baby won't you get them if I did?  
**__**No you won't, cause I'm gone, gone, gone, gone, gone…**_

He dropped the pills onto the bed and decided plan B was going to have to work, he thought Plan B was going to require a lot more will power which was why he'd also contemplated the pills but the pills didn't bring his death closer to Sam's like plan B did. He turned Dean Martin's record up and walked into the bathroom, the bath was about to spill over and was steaming lightly. He turned the taps off and, still fully clothes, climbed into the depths. He sat in the bath before slowly submerging himself underneath.

He held hid breath and counted in his head, seeing how long it would take, the water seemed to have pushed away his drunken state for he was suddenly very alert but he didn't emerge from the water he stayed and counted. Phil felt the need for air hit him again like it had whilst beneath the canal's surface…

_"10 … 9 … 8 … 7 … 6 … 5 … 4 … 3 … 2 … 1 … HAPPY NEW YEAR!"_

_Phil looked down, his eyes locking with Sam's which were sparkling with delight. "Happy new year Phil."_

_"Happy new year Sam," he replied, glad he was starting new year with her._

_She lent up and their lips met softly, she put her arms around his neck and his wrapped around her waist. They stayed locked in the loving embrace until the annoying need for oxygen caused them to break apart. Phil didn't mind too much though, he figured there would be many more times when they would be able to try and cheat oxygen…_

Phil felt himself being lifted upwards and suddenly emerged from the water, it splashed everywhere and he spluttered before breathing. He broke down, salty tears leaking from his eyes and mixing with the droplets of water that was cascading down him from his hair. Arms wrapped themselves around him and he fell against Gina who was crouching beside the bath, he wept unashamedly against her.

"She's gone," he kept repeating in a hoarse, voice. "She's gone."

"I know, I know." Gina shushed, rocking him gently. "I used the key hidden under the pot in the back garden, I was only going to drive past but then I heard the music and was worried so came in. Oh Phil, I know you miss her but committing suicide isn't the way."

"I just wanted to be with her, I love her so much." He sobbed.

"I know you do," Gina kept him firmly within her comforting grip.

Phil put a hand on one side of her neck and buried his head on the other side, he felt like a child with it's mother, within her embrace.

"You're going to pack a bag and then come stay with me for a bit OK?" Gina told him.

He nodded but didn't move from her embrace. "I miss her so much. This is like a really bad nightmare."

"One day you'll wake up from this nightmare and leave all this behind." Gina replied.

"If waking up is leaving all this behind … then I'm not quite sure I want to wake up."

_**When you're dreaming with a broken heart  
**__**The waking up is the hardest part**_

* * *

**Review?  
(If you want to blame anyone for the death ... blame the chips! Blame _all _the chips!)**


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